


my boy

by rxgers



Category: EastEnders (TV)
Genre: Caretaking, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Whump, inspired by the 16/09/19 episode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-10-24 04:55:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20700287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rxgers/pseuds/rxgers
Summary: Kathy tucks Ben in.





	my boy

**Author's Note:**

> PURE fumed that eastenders told us kathy tucked ben in but wouldn't let us see it. it's been plagueing me so here's a little ditty about how i imagined it could've happened. ben's a little bit more ill in this than he's being portrayed in the show because you don't get fucking shot in the side and turn up fine a week later:))))))))))))))))))))))))))) also i love boys in pain

“Alright? There we are.”

  
Kathy peeled back the duvet, stepping back to allow Ben to lower himself down slowly onto the mattress. His face screwed up briefly as the movement tugged at his side and Kathy placed a gentle hand under his elbow for support.

  
“I’ve changed the sheets for you so they’re all nice and fresh,” she said as Ben laid back and let his mum pull the covers up to his chin “You feeling any better?”

  
Ben swore he’d been starving when he’d nagged Phil to get chips for him earlier, but nausea sat thickly in his belly and he’d only been able to manage a few. The painkillers felt like they vibrated through him and placed him under a sedated haze – the room shifted and span around him even when lying down, and fatigue had him gripping the arm of the sofa in an effort to stay semi-upright. Kathy had found him listing worryingly to one side, eyes fighting to stay open and a plate of barely touched chips in front of him. She wisely suggested a nap upstairs.

  
Ben shook his head in response to her question. He squeezed his eyes shut when the room lurched to one side as he did so and couldn’t fight the hot frustrated tears that welled up. He blinked furiously to force them away. Ben didn’t want to be a wuss, but he didn’t fucking feel well – if getting shot doesn’t earn you the right to be a bit of a baby, what does?

  
“Have you got everything you need?” Kathy asked, gesturing to the bedside table. A smile tugged at the corner of Ben’s mouth as he looked over the goods laid before him – a glass of water, a can of Sprite, a book and an array of snacks. He hummed in response. There was a short moment of silence between them as Ben wriggled to get comfy and Kathy fiddled with the various glasses and packets on the table. She looked down at him briefly before something shifted in her face.

“Oh, my baby,” she reached out and pushed Ben’s hair back, her hand lingering on his forehead for a moment “I don’t know what I would’ve done if-“

  
“Mum-“

  
“Someone shot you. My boy,” she protested as she dropped down to a squat next to the bed, her face level with Ben’s now. Her hand reached out again to stroke the hair above his ear gently.

  
The feeling of his mum’s hand just made Ben think of Callum – Callum’s heavy fingers in his hair on the floor of the pub, Callum’s chin resting on the crown of his head, Callum’s soft whispers of comfort and desperate pleas for Ben to stay awake, stay talking, stay alive. Callum, Callum, Callum. Ben let his eyes slip shut and surrendered to the thought of him, letting the choking feeling wash over him for a few seconds. A brief indulgence.

  
The sick feeling in Ben’s stomach gripped his throat. He didn’t know if it was from the drugs or the longing.

  
He opened his eyes and was hit with a rush of exhaustion, a yawn rising from his chest suddenly. He pressed the back of his hand to his left eye as Kathy fussed with the covers once again.

  
“Warm enough?” she enquired. Ben hummed an affirmation. He couldn’t lie, the crisp sheets against the bare skin on his arms and his mum fretting over him gave him slight respite from the side effects from the painkillers. He’d been up most of the night, tossing and turning between bouts of restless sleep. Ben thought he remembered Phil popping in and out - bringing him water, helping him change his clothes when the ones he wore were soaked through with his sweat – but in his painkiller-induced fog, he could’ve easily been dreaming. The idea of Phil looking after him didn’t seem too likely.

  
“You call me if you need anything, alright?” Kathy asked, watching Ben’s eyes shut and snap open again and again as he fought a losing battle against sleep.

  
“Y’need to wake me up later,” he mumbled drowsily “dn’t let me sleep f’r too long.”

  
“Okay,” she smiled and ran her thumb over his cheek gently.

  
“M’serious,” Ben breathed, though it was pretty intelligible as he fell further into his drowsiness.

  
“I know you are, darling,” Kathy lent forward and pressed a kiss into Ben’s hairline before standing and moving to the door.

  
And if she stood there in the doorway to listen to her son’s heavy breathing heaving through the air as she’d done on those nights many years ago - after the meningitis - to remind herself he was still alive, nobody needed to know but her.

**Author's Note:**

> you'll find me at bucckkyy.tumblr.com let's cry together


End file.
